MY CITY - by Heather June Gibbons

MY  CITY by Heather June Gibbons It’s drippy here, and the crows are mean. They zero in on loose threads, snatch babies right out of mothers’ hands. Swoop and snatch, just like that. People here are falling badly in the streets. They don’t understand that falling is an art you can never get better at. They turn inside-out, though none are reversible. Me, I’d rather hold a fish to my brow for a little relief and do a proper fall that bruises the sky’s knees or switch the lights on in the glass room and yell Dance, dance, dance! Instead, the mayor tells people to just hold tight and most of them do. In this city, only the really bad ones glow in the dark.